


lights

by lumielle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Dates, Love at First Sight, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumielle/pseuds/lumielle
Summary: Oikawa Tooru, twenty-three and fresh out of training at a tech firm in Tokyo, returns home just in time for Sendai's yearly light pageant. Amidst a bout of heavy snowfall, he stumbles into the arms of a handsome stranger.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 25
Kudos: 160
Collections: Secret Santa Haikyuu 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toorukawaii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toorukawaii/gifts).



> hello hello! it's been a while!  
> this is my secret santa gift for @toorukawaii on twitter!! this was supposed to be around 1.5k words, but then it ran away from me and now we're here;; i am thinking this'll be no more than three chapters, so please look forward to seeing this completed soon! i saw you retweet some iwaois, so i hope this is something you'll like! for now, here's chapter one c:

His parents' house hasn't changed at all. Located a ten minute walk away from Yaotome station, it looks exactly the same as it did years ago. Brown curtains behind the windows, potted fake ferns on the front steps, the nameplate on the house wall still chipped and scratched.

The city itself has barely changed either. There's a new store on the third floor of the Parco, a new Korean restaurant by the station, and one of the footbridges has been renewed. But it's still the very same city he grew up in, exuding the very same atmosphere. Oikawa Tooru, twenty three and fresh out of training at a tech firm located in Tokyo, slips right back in, making himself at home in his childhood bedroom. Between comic books, old volleyball magazines and other teenage memorabilia it's almost as if he'd never left in the first place.

Of course, he no longer enjoys the same benefits as his younger self. He is made to help around the house and his parents expect him to pick up after himself. That's not what gets under Oikawa's skin though. Much to his dismay, both his father and mother have taken to pestering him about his recent romantic liaisons. Or, well, lack thereof.

It's not like Oikawa has had zero experiences. Quite the opposite actually, but nothing to write home about. It's been a good few years since he last brought someone home, but certainly not for lack of trying. It's just, life could be stressful, and it would be naïve to expect all of one's needs and aspirations to line up seamlessly. In the past few years Oikawa's career came first, and that's fine. He's still young and he has nothing to lose. He  _ should _ be focusing on his career at this point in life. His parents used to tell him the same when he was a child, so why they gradually changed their opinion is beyond him.

"Why don't you go into town for a walk?" suggests Oikawa's mother on the third day, handing him a bowl of steaming hot vegetable stew. His favorite. "Or join me for afternoon tea with the Iwaizumis?"

Oikawa perks up at that. He certainly hasn't heard that name before, and it's the first conversation that hasn't started with his mother trying to set him up with someone.

His mother smiles. "They moved in next door a while ago, such pleasant people. Mrs Iwaizumi owns a flower shop in Izumi Chuo, so she's been helping me with my garden plants. The real ones, Tooru, don't give me that look," she laughs, reading the teasing jab off Oikawa's lips before he can verbalize it. "That reminds me, the Iwaizumis have a son about your age. I think you two'd get right along."

There it is. Oikawa should have known better.

"Mom," he whines, dragging the vowel out as obnoxiously long as possible. "Can we not talk about that for one minute? Please?"

His mother inclines her head to one side, all innocence and smiles. "I don't know what you're getting at, Tooru. All I was saying was that he's a nice young man and you'd probably get along. He plays volleyball, or so I heard. Very handsome, too."

"Mom!" Oikawa pushes away his stew, his appetite dwindling. "I know you only mean well, but I can't force myself to fall in love, and I don't want to either. I understand where you and Dad are coming from, but please give me a break? It’s not like I’m going anywhere!"

He and his mother both let out a sigh, Oikawa, exhausted, his mother, defeated.

"I'm just doing this because I love you," she says softly.

"Well, if you love me let me live my life the way I want," Oikawa says, getting to his feet. His tone isn’t malicious, just tired. "Actually, I think I'll take your suggestion and go for a walk. Greet the Iwaizumis for me?"

"Tooru..." his mother says, trailing off. After a pregnant pause, her shoulders drop. "Take care. And don't be too late, okay?"

Oikawa pats her on the shoulder as he makes his way over to the door.

"I'll be home for dinner."

Then, he leaves.

* * *

Blades of icy wind scratch at his skin as Oikawa steps outside, his feet carrying him towards the train station. He's glad he decided to wear gloves and the big, fluffy scarf his sister gifted him last year. The snow that he expected to have melted overnight sits stubbornly on every vaguely horizontal surface, taunting. His toes already feel numb just looking at it. He should invest in a pair of boots while he's at it.

The ride into Sendai's city center still feels as sedating and long as ever, and he takes comfort in it. Oikawa stares at his reflection in the window, letting the dark of the underground tunnels fly past him. His face is still so young, no wrinkles, no scars. Dark circles, yes, but he knows how to hide those if need be. He's only twenty-three with his whole life ahead of him. There's no rational reason to worry and no reason to rush headfirst into halfhearted relationships. Oikawa knows all of these things, but.

His mother meant well, but their brief conversation still left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. 

Maybe a day out will do him good. Maybe some fresh air is what he needs to clear his head.

He gets off the train at Kotodai Park Station. Immediately, he is swept up by a large group of chattering highschoolers, laughing and bumping into one another, some holding ice skates, others apple candy. Oikawa is reminiscent of his own highschool days, but he spent most of them holed up inside his school's gym, practicing serves for upcoming volleyball matches. Even if they wouldn’t be to some people, they are happy memories for him. Very happy. Nothing would ever compare to the thrill of hitting a perfect service ace or receiving a strong spike.

He stops to look at the gigantic light globe right by the station, thousands of small bulbs twinkling against the darkening sky. Smells of fried food and beer waft through the air from the nearby winter market, but Oikawa still doesn't have much of an appetite.

Instead of checking out the food stalls, he walks past the area, towards the gold-lined rows of trees beyond. Johzenji Avenue is packed with couples taking romantic walks and groups of people trying desperately to snap pictures without hoards of strangers in them (a sisyphean task, Oikawa knows). Oikawa winds his way through throngs of people, trying not to step on anyone's heels. Gravel and ice crunch under his feet, and just as he ducks past a couple whipping out an umbrella, he realizes that small white crystals have started falling from the sky. Snow. 

Flakes nestle into Oikawa's hair and catch in his eyelashes. He blinks them away and keeps walking, hands stuffed down his coat pockets to keep warm. He isn't sure what he'll do once he reaches the end of the avenue. Maybe he'll turn around and return home the way he came, maybe he'll take a detour to Sendai station and grab some taiyaki on the way. Sweets have always brightened his moods, even just a little.

Thoughts on other possible treats, Oikawa mindlessly follows where the other people go, navigating his way around the statues scattered along the walkway. He passes Sendai Mediatheque and keeps walking until he reaches the end of the path. The snow gets progressively heavier until it cascades down around him like sugar clouds while he waits for the stoplight to turn green. The temperature certainly dropped, and his breath billows in front of him. Cursing his thin-soled, wet shoes, Oikawa hops in place, trying to get his toes to warm up. This, however, proves to be a fatal mistake.

Just a blink before the light turns green, Oikawa lands awkwardly on his right heel and the ground slips out from under his feet, sending him crashing down.

Eyes squeezed shut and arms flung out to try and catch his fall, he braces himself for impact with the cold ground. But it doesn't come.

Something cushions him and softens the blow, large and warm. He barely even touches the ground. A raspy grunt from beneath him alerts him to the fact that he must have pulled down another person with him. Embarrassment shooting up his throat, Oikawa forces himself to peel his eyes open, apology ready on his tongue - except when he takes in the person's face, all words leave his brain, nothing left but hot air.

The person he knocked over is a young man, about Oikawa's age, with greenish brown eyes and extremely long lashes. A perfect, straight nose. His lips are parted in surprise and an attractive pink. A thin layer of stubble covers his cut jawline and a mess of black hair pokes out from the hood of his red coat. He looks like someone straight out of a Christmas romance flick. Oikawa knows in an instant that he's never seen anyone this beautiful.

"You're pretty good looking and all, but could you get off? It's a bit cold down here," the beautiful man says, reminding Oikawa of their painfully awkward situation.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah! I'm so sorry!" Oikawa splutters, scrambling to his feet. He holds out a hand for the other man to help him get up and he takes it, allowing Oikawa to pull him to a stand. They're about the same height, but he's wearing pretty heavy duty boots, so he might be a centimeter or two shorter than Oikawa. He doesn't particularly care about that, though. How can he, when all his brain provides are three words: perfect kissing height. 

Mister perfect kissing height clears his throat, pulling Oikawa out of his reverie.

"Sorry," Oikawa says, "are you okay? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it. What about you? You okay, uh...?"

"Oikawa Tooru. I'm. That's my name."

"Well, nice to meet you, Oikawa. I'm Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi Hajime." He scratches the back of his neck, a coy smile playing on his lips.

Oikawa's insides feel like they're catching fire. Iwaizumi Hajime. What a name! And the way he said  _ Oikawa's _ name! The stoplight beeps rhythmically, announcing that the light has turned green, but Oikawa's frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the beautiful man with the charming smile and the perfect everything. And didn't he call Oikawa good looking? If this is what falling in love feels like he never wants to get back up again. 

"Um, were you going somewhere?" Oikawa asks.  _ Please don't be in a hurry, please please please. _

"Nowhere in particular? I was going to head back to the station to grab a quick snack, but that's about it. You?"

Oikawa beams, sensing his chance. "Me too! Would you mind if I tag along? If it's not too much to ask!"

Iwaizumi laughs a little, the sound of his voice like honey in Oikawa's ears. "Sure, why not?"

_ Score. _ Oikawa's heart leaps and he channels all of his willpower to stay on the ground instead of jubilantly jumping in the air. They've known each other for five minutes tops, but he's already head over heels.

They cross the street together once the light flips back to green, falling into step with one another easily.

"So, are you from around here?" Iwaizumi asks, stealing a glance. 

"Yeah, born and raised. I just returned from Tokyo to visit my family over the holidays."

"Oh, you work in Tokyo? What field?"

"I'm in tech. Sounds boring, I know, but it's actually really fun!"

"I don't think that's boring at all, actually. I have a mechanical engineering degree, so tech is one of the most interesting things to me."

Oikawa feels himself falling even harder. "Do you work here in Sendai?"

"Yeah. Don't know for how long, though, I might get transferred out at some point. My company's expanding."

Oikawa nods, taking all of this in. Iwaizumi's walking close, their arms brushing occasionally. Talking to him comes as easy as breathing, even though Oikawa does have to pay attention to not stumble over his words with all of the excitement brimming under his skin. Iwaizumi tells him a little bit about his work, then the subject changes to high school. 

"I was the captain of my school's volleyball team," Oikawa says, not entirely without pride. "We never made it to nationals, but we got pretty close a couple of times."

Iwaizumi listens closely, his eyes flickering with something that Oikawa can't quite pinpoint.

"I used to play, too, you know."

"Really? What position?"

"Wing spiker," Iwaizumi says, expression fond. "I kind of miss it. It was a really good time." 

"Yeah, it was," Oikawa agrees. "I was a setter, by the way. What a shame we didn't go to the same school. I bet we could have made a good pair on the court."

Iwaizumi shoots him a long glance, the line of his mouth softer than it has been all this time. A mild sheen of red has spread on his cheeks, but it might just be from the cold.

_ Still cute _ , Oikawa's brain supplies.

"I bet," Iwaizumi agrees. "Maybe we could play together some time if you're still around."

Oikawa’s heart sings. He makes Iwaizumi promise.

He steers them along Johzenji Avenue until they reach the end where a camera team has set up to shoot something for the local news, most likely.

"Would it be weird if I asked you for a picture?" Iwaizumi asks suddenly. Oikawa blinks in surprise.

"Oh, I can take a picture of you, sure."

Iwaizumi makes a face. "I meant a picture of us together, but it's whatever, we don't have to. We just met, so I understand."

Oikawa is an absolute idiot. 

A picture! Iwaizumi actually wants to take a picture with him. He wants something to remember him by! 

"Of course! Let's take a picture," Oikawa trills, pulling Iwaizumi closer by the sleeve of his coat. He whips out his phone before Iwaizumi can even reach inside his pocket.

"Say cheese!"

They take a couple of selfies with the gold illumination serving as a background. Along the way, Iwaizumi's arm winds around Oikawa's back to pull him closer, making him all too aware of how couple-y they must look to passers-by. He can’t say he doesn’t like it. Maybe he's just a tactile person, but Oikawa elects to view it as Iwaizumi wanting him close, as Iwaizumi feeling the same connection, and at the thought a fresh wave of warmth rushes to his cheeks. How could one human being be so all-encompassingly perfect? 

Oh god. A painful, sinking feeling takes root in his stomach. There's no way someone like Iwaizumi is single.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Oikawa blurts out before he can catch himself.

Iwaizumi turns to look at him, face unreadable. "No."    
He searches Oikawa's face for a moment, his hand still fisted in the material of Oikawa's coat. He looks Oikawa in the eyes and licks his lips, and then, a little quieter, he says, "I don't have a boyfriend either."

Oikawa's face heats up to the max, and he wouldn't be surprised to find steam shooting from his ears. Is this flirting? Is Iwaizumi  _ flirting _ with him?

"Thank god. I mean, me too! I don't have one either, haha," Oikawa stammers, disarmed by the smile finding its way back onto Iwaizumi's face. He wants to make him smile like that all the time for the rest of his life. It's that radiant of a smile.

"Did you get a good one?" Iwaizumi asks, pointing at Oikawa's phone.

Oikawa shows him the photos he took and Iwaizumi nods his approval.

"Can I get your LINE info? So I can send you the pictures?"

"Sure," Iwaizumi says, reaching for his phone. He holds his QR code out for Oikawa to scan, and once his profile pops up on the screen, Oikawa's mouth begins to water. It's Iwaizumi in a gray tank top, smiling while holding a can of Pocari Sweat. His arms - his  _ arms _ . He has the perfect amount of muscle and a really nice tan and Oikawa's brain immediately goes to places it really shouldn't. (He wants those arms to crush him.)

"There, all done," he says once he manages to look away long enough to send over the pictures.

"Thanks," Iwaizumi says. "Let's head back?"

Oikawa nods, still giddy from everything that has happened so far. "Okay."

They continue to converse as they retrace their steps for a bit. They take a turn then, to get back to Sendai station via Clis Road. They stop at the taiyaki store for snacks, and Iwaizumi collects even more Oikawa Love Points when he gently wipes at the stray dab of custard cream that escapes from Oikawa's taiyaki onto his cheek. They share a moment of speechless eye contact that seems to last a lifetime, and Oikawa considers, albeit briefly, quitting his job in Tokyo to just be with Iwaizumi for all eternity.

Oikawa has never fallen for someone this hard this quickly. He doesn't get crushes on people. This doesn't feel like one either. This, with Iwaizumi, feels like finding the one thing he's been wanting without knowing it exists. He knows his infatuation is based on little more than looks, but this feeling is unlike anything he's ever felt before.

They reach the station much too quickly for Oikawa's liking. He still wants to talk to Iwaizumi.

"Which line?" he asks as they cross the ticket gate.

"Namboku. You?"

Oikawa beams. "Me too! Where do you get off?"

"Yaotome."

"You live close by then! What a coincidence!"  _ Maybe I can see him again! _

"Yeah." Iwaizumi gives him another of those heart-shaking smiles.

They spend the train ride mostly in silence, but Oikawa catches Iwaizumi's eyes a couple of times, causing him to smile dumbly at his lap each time.

It isn't until they get off the train and find themselves turning into the same street that Oikawa's brain finally catches up to him.

"Iwa-chan, where do you live exactly?"

Iwaizumi hesitates at the nickname, but replies without mentioning it. "Just a couple of meters over there, third house on the left. Why?"

"I'm the fourth house. No way..."

Iwaizumi stops mid-step, eyes wide and arms crossed over his chest. "Wait, are you that stupid Oikawa guy my mom won't shut up about?" He gives Oikawa a quick once-over, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before letting out a scoff. "Oh my god, you are."

Oikawa's memories of his earlier talk with his mother finally click into place at this, and he realizes something he should have realized much sooner. Iwa-chan, handsome Iwa-chan with the volleyball arms, is the Iwaizumi from next door, the Iwaizumi his mother had wanted to set him up with. And he just called him stupid. Oikawa feels his heart sink.

It just seems to be his luck when, as they come to a stop in front of their houses, the front door to the Iwaizumis' opens, revealing Oikawa's own mother laden with a basket of fruit and another woman about the same age with the same beautiful face as Iwa-chan's. There is no doubt she's his mother.

"Hajime!" she calls, smile stretching from one ear to the other. "And this handsome young man is…?"

"Tooru," Oikawa's mother supplies, her smile a perfect copy of Mrs. Iwaizumi's.

Oikawa looks at the two mothers and then at Iwaizumi himself. Iwaizumi takes a step away from him, exasperation written all over his face. 

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa begins, but Iwaizumi cuts him short.

"I didn't think you'd try this hard to set me up with random people," he says, pointing an accusing finger at his mother. "And you," he says, now turning back to face Oikawa. "I didn't think you'd be childish enough to actually play along. And stop calling me Iwa-chan."

Oikawa opens his mouth to object and explain what really happened, even though he barely understands what just happened himself, but Iwaizumi has already walked across the street, pushed his way past their mothers and disappeared into the house. Oikawa stays rooted to the spot, too in shock to react.

He doesn't snap out of it until his mother calls for him twice more, telling him to come inside. Mrs. Iwaizumi apologizes profusely for her son's behavior, but her words don't do anything to ease the sting Iwaizumi's abrupt rejection left Oikawa with. The day that had suddenly turned into a romantic miracle has now soured infinitely.

"Hajime can be a little hotheaded," Mrs. Iwaizumi tries to comfort, "but I'm sure he'll come around."

_ I hope so _ , Oikawa thinks bitterly as his own mother shoos him inside. He drags himself to his room to wallow in his misery in peace, without his mother's prying eyes on him.    
What if Iwaizumi refuses to talk to him until he leaves for Tokyo? If their mothers hadn't tried to meddle in their children's affairs, this evening might have ended completely differently. Maybe, just maybe, something romantic might have even come of it. But this? This is a misunderstanding of a fatal caliber.

With a sigh, Oikawa drops onto his bed and pulls the covers over himself.

He needs to make this right. 

He  _ will _ make this right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what unintelligible thing iwa-chan said? lol  
> i hope you liked this first chapter! i will be making small adjustments as i update, but nothing too crazy. also, despite what you might think after reading the end of this chapter, this is like a hundred and twenty percent fluff :p comments are always appreciated! see you soon! <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after an extremely long wait, chapter two! i hope you enjoy oikawa's suffering as much as i did writing it :p

Oikawa's phone sits on the table, his LINE chat with Iwaizumi open.

However, as much as he's been wracking his brain for the past twenty minutes, he has yet to actually send something. For some reason nothing he typed came out right and he ended up backspacing everything. What was one to say after being rejected like that anyway? Begging for forgiveness seems sort of redundant when he hasn't done anything.

He hasn't even fully comprehended what happened last night. When he woke up this morning it all seemed like a fever dream to him. He remembered there being a painfully attractive man, long periods of overwhelming, sizzling eye contact, and his own quickening heartbeat; a feeling so intense and alien it had to be a dream. He allowed himself to marinate in the fleeting memories of his nightly fantasy for a while, entertaining thoughts of how the dream might have played out had he stayed asleep for just a while longer, until reality came knocking on his door. In the form of his own mother. Knocking on his door. And letting him know a certain Mrs. Iwaizumi had called to apologize for her son's behavior once more.

Moaning, Oikawa had rolled out of bed and stayed there, on the floor, until he got too cold to keep up his act of self pity.

When he'd padded into the kitchen, his mother had prepared breakfast for him, a placating smile on her face. That had reminded him of what Iwaizumi had said last night before he'd marched off - "That stupid Oikawa son my mother's been trying to set me up with" - and his appetite dwindled rapidly. He'd given his own mother a venomous stare, grabbed a bowl of rice and returned to his room without saying a word.

Which left him in his current situation, slouched over the empty bowl at his desk, staring mournfully at the pictures he'd sent Iwaizumi of the two of them.

They're good pictures, too, both of them smiling, cheeks and noses flushed red, Iwaizumi's arm loosely hugging Oikawa's side. Oikawa lets out a deflating sigh, unable to chase away thoughts of the what ifs. What if they'd gotten home and not met their mothers at the door? What if he'd thought of holding Iwaizumi back before he'd had the chance to run off?

 _None of that would have changed anything, though_ , the voice in Oikawa's head reminds him. _He called you stupid, and not in a joking, friendly kind of tone. He clearly has no interest in being with you, Tooru._

With a last, heaving sigh, he closes the app, walks himself over to his bed and faceplants into it. It would be for the best if he returned to Tokyo earlier rather than later, it seems. He can't fathom the idea of taking out the trash and accidentally running into Iwaizumi, or bumping into him at the train station. He shudders at the mere memory of his furious eyes, even if they were admittedly very pretty eyes.

He mopes around on his bed a little longer, attempting to distract himself with some of his old volleyball magazines. He gives up on those soon, though, because he comes across an ad with a player in it that looks a little bit too good and a little bit too much like his unattainable neighbor. He entertains the idea of texting his friend Hanamaki in Tokyo and telling him about his troubles, but when he unlocks his phone the pictures of him and Iwaizumi stare back at him, and he loses the bit of energy needed to formulate a text message.

  
  


It's four in the afternoon when Oikawa's mother softly knocks on his door before letting herself in. 

"Tooru, will you listen to me?" She asks, tentative enough for Oikawa to roll over and peek at her from his nest of pillows.

"What is it?"

She crosses the room and sits on the edge of Oikawa's bed. It takes her a moment to speak up.

"Tooru, I'm not sure I understand exactly what happened last night, but I'd like to apologize."

"It's alright, you couldn't have known we wouldn't click. You didn't set Iwaizumi and me up to meet, did you?"

"Well. No," his mother sighs, making it abundantly clear that she wishes she had. "But I still feel responsible seeing you this unhappy, Tooru. Wouldn't you like a cup of coffee and a slice of cake?

I got some from your favorite bakery this morning."

Oikawa wants to say he doesn't, because he'd much rather continue sulking, but he hasn't eaten anything since his bowl of white rice that morning and his stomach grumbles at the mere thought of food.

With a sigh, he pushes the covers away. "I'll be down in a second."

  
  


It takes Oikawa another ten minutes to actually get up once his mother excuses herself. He isn't looking forward to having more conversations lest she try and initiate a second meeting with Iwaizumi to 'help' him. No thank you. He'd prefer to never see him again, so he could pretend that night never happened in the first place. He'd move on and forget about it.

With this thought in mind, he pulls on a pair of joggers and steps into his house slippers, which is already an upgrade from the outfit he'd sported that morning (boxers and the same old tie-dye t-shirt he's wearing now).

Wondering if he can distract his mother with stories from Tokyo, he makes his way out of his room and towards the small living room. It's already smelling deliciously of freshly brewed coffee and strawberries and cream, and he's just a little bit glad he convinced himself to get up. His stomach growls again.

He goes to sit in his usual spot at the table, except he can't.

There is already someone sitting in his seat. Oikawa stops dead in his tracks, feeling his limbs go slack and his mouth dry.

There's someone sitting in his seat, in his home, and it's Iwaizumi. Why is Iwaizumi of all people here?

"You!" Oikawa blurts, pointing a shaking finger at the unlikely intruder.

Iwaizumi looks up from his folded hands on the table, dark green eyes going wide. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He just gapes at Oikawa like a fish, the exact opposite of his little outbreak less than twenty-four hours ago. Oikawa swallows dryly, willing his heart to slow down, but before he can start interrogating Iwaizumi, an unfamiliar laugh breaks the silence between them. He whips his head around, watching his mother and Mrs. Iwaizumi emerge from the kitchen, holding a tray of cake and a stack of plates respectively. The cogs whirring in Oikawa's head are slowly starting to fit together, but once again, before he can say anything, someone beats him to it.

"Tooru! It's so nice to finally meet you!" exclaims Mrs. Iwaizumi. "Your mother has told me so much about you! Only good things of course," she adds, as if _that's_ what's causing Oikawa trouble right now. He manages a stiff five degree bow, still too in shock to react with anything else. He does throw his own mother a venomous glare though, a silent demand for an explanation.

She blinks at him, a pleading smile on her lips. "Sit down," she mouths, gesturing at the seat opposite Iwaizumi who's still staring wordlessly. Ignoring the irritation and anxiety battling for the upper hand inside his chest, Oikawa takes a deep breath, swears he'll chew out his mother later, and takes a seat. He makes a point to not lock eyes with Iwaizumi again, staring at his balled up hands in his lap instead. He can feel Iwaizumi's gaze on him, though, searing hot, like lasers piercing his skin.

Why Iwaizumi agreed to come here with his mother is still beyond him, and the tension in the air is almost palpable. The silence between them stretches on while their mothers set down the plates and cut the cake into triangle shaped slices.

Oikawa pours himself a cup of coffee just to give himself something to do, but his mother's watchful eyes are on him, and she smiles and says, "Tooru, would you pour Hajime-kun a cup as well?"

Iwaizumi puts up his hands. "It's- it's fine, I don't-"

"Please," Oikawa's mother insists, and Oikawa just sighs and grabs Iwaizumi's cup.

"Black or do you want me to leave room for cream?"

Iwaizumi blinks at him, mouth open. "Uh. Black is fine."

Nodding, Oikawa fills Iwaizumi's cup. He hands it over, and just for a blink Iwaizumi's finger brushes his as he accepts the cup. Oikawa pulls his hand away quickly, still not meeting Iwaizumi's eyes.

He has no clue how he's supposed to act around him with last night's events still looming above them and their mothers fixing them with their eagle like stares.

"So," Mrs Iwaizumi says, clearing her throat, "did you two get to see the lights last night?"

Oikawa stiffens.

Iwaizumi's coffee cup clinks jarringly against his saucer.

"Um, we ... did," Oikawa tries, shooting Iwaizumi a hesitant glance.

"We ... did." Iwaizumi looks back at him and makes a face, half annoyed, half apologetic. 

The room is very silent for a moment. Too silent. So silent it's awkward silent.

"So, how did you like it?" Oikawa's mother prompts, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Oikawa refuses to comment on it. Iwaizumi should be the one to explain here. If there's anything to explain at all. As far as he knows he's the victim here, and Iwaizumi is in the wrong. He regards him coolly, a wordless prompt for action.

Iwaizumi grinds his teeth, staring murder at his cup first and the two women second. He clears his throat, and with his eyes fixed anywhere but the three other people in the room, he says, "We stumbled into each other by ... _coincidence_. Well … I felt like we had some sort of connection, so we took a walk, took some pictures." Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck, the red blooming under his skin visible even from across the table.

"We had a good time," Iwaizumi finishes lamely, but as far as Oikawa can tell, honestly. He gapes at him, dumbfounded. Then his surprise fades away and his mouth pulls into a frown. How can he talk about their time together like that when he'd insulted him straight after? How can he act like it didn’t end the way it did? _Without trying to make amends first_ , Oikawa's hurt pride adds.

"How lovely," their mothers exclaim in unison. Iwaizumi gives a pained smile.

Oikawa takes a sip of his coffee to spare himself the trouble of having to say anything more, but is displeased to find it lukewarm and too bitter. This isn't going anywhere. It was never going anywhere to begin with.

"I knew you'd like Tooru," Iwaizumi's mother says sweetly to her own son, squeezing his shoulder. "He wouldn't believe me when I told him, you know!" She laughs, showing two rows of slightly crooked but white teeth. 

Oikawa bristles, knowing full well no one would use the word 'like' to describe Iwaizumi's feelings towards him. Well, _he_ wouldn't, at least. 

Iwaizumi nods stiffly, back to staring at his cup.

"You should go out again soon," Oikawa's mother says, "while you're still here, Tooru. I'm sure you'd both enjoy it. You know-"

"You know," Oikawa says getting to his feet. "I think I'll go back to my room. Let's stop pretending this isn't weird at all. Iwaizumi doesn't like me and neither do I him, okay? Last night - well, it was nice until you flipped out at me. So that's that."

Oikawa turns up his nose at Iwaizumi and gives his mother a last cutting stare, then he turns on his heel and stomps out of the room.

He's tired. It'd be so much easier to just drop the whole act and let them be. Why did their mothers have to try so hard and mend their nonexistent relationship?

Oikawa flops back down on his bed, feeling no better than before. Disappointed at his mother for going behind his back and disappointed with Iwaizumi for even showing up, he buries his face in his pillow and lets out a groan. Why did they have to be neighbors? Everything could have been so perfect. Oikawa is ninety percent sure he’ll never get to speak to Iwaizumi again, and he isn’t even sure if he’s unhappy about it or not.

The house is quiet for a while. Oikawa can only imagine the suffocating discomfort in the living room, and quite frankly, he thinks it serves them all right. They brought this upon themselves. 

Eventually, slivers of sound make it through to him, the voices too mixed and too far away for him to make any sense of it. His own mother’s voice rings out the loudest, and he wonders briefly if she’s upset with him. He waits for the sound of the front door, but it doesn't come.

Instead, a knock on his door.

"Go away, mom."

Silence. Then, hesitantly, a voice that is certainly not his mother's. "It's Iwaizumi. Can I come in? We should talk ... I think."

Oikawa goes rigid on his bed. Iwaizumi? But why? He can't imagine hearing the word ‘sorry’ coming out of his mouth now when he had the chance all throughout today, via text or otherwise.

"Did my mom send you?" he snaps.

"No, I sent myself." A pause. "Well, they both sort of gave me this look that kind of said it all, but, listen, I want to explain. It'd be easier to say face to face, though. I get the impression that this door isn't exactly a great conversationalist..."

Despite himself, the corners of Oikawa's lips pull up microscopically. He doesn't know if he has the energy to relive the past evening another time, but he guesses that no matter the outcome, Iwaizumi's more likely to leave him alone after attempting a conversation. He rolls over and sits up, bringing his hand to his face to fix his hair. No point in looking completely like a mess, right? When he's done and looking somewhat presentable again, he takes a deep breath. 

"Come in."

A relieved sigh reaches him from the other side of the door before it opens slowly and Iwaizumi pokes his head inside.

"Hurry up," Oikawa says.

"Sorry," Iwaizumi says. He steps inside and closes the door, then proceeds to hover by the wall across Oikawa's bed, like he's afraid to come too close.

"You can sit on the desk chair," Oikawa offers, a bit amused by Iwaizumi's insecurity.

Iwaizumi nods and sits. He folds his hands in his lap, his shoulders rising and falling as he inhales and exhales deeply.

"Oikawa," he begins, "I messed up."

Oikawa raises an eyebrow.

"First of all, I'm sorry I blew you off like that last night. My mom's been getting on my nerves recently about me being single, and she's been trying to get me to ask you out ever since you arrived. Well, not you specifically, but you, as in, the guy next door."

Oikawa nods slowly.

Iwaizumi continues. "I thought us meeting was arranged by our parents, and I thought you were aware of that. Now I know that's not the case."

"What made you realize?" Oikawa asks. His heart's beating fast. He doesn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

Iwaizumi wrings his hands. "Just now when you went up to your room, our mothers really went ballistic on me. Your mom told me you had nothing to do with the whole thing. And even though I'm sure she threw in an apology somewhere in there I was sure she was mentally ripping my head off."

A laugh bursts from Oikawa's mouth. The thought of his mother exploding at Iwaizumi is too funny not to.

"Stop laughing, I'm not done yet," Iwaizumi presses out. His cheeks are tinged red.

"Don't let me stop you," Oikawa says, unable to keep the giggling at bay entirely.

Iwaizumi sighs but keeps going. He holds Oikawa's gaze, the brown-green of his eyes illuminated by the last rays of sun sneaking in before night begins to set.

"When I said we had a connection, and that I had a good time ... I meant it. I'm sorry I ruined it."

Oikawa blinks. His heart's hammering against his ribcage like it's trying to break free and throw itself right at Iwaizumi.

"So you don't think I'm stupid?" he asks.

"What? No, I don't think that. Actually, you're..." Iwaizumi trails off, eyes flitting away and cheeks darkening.

With unusually sweaty hands, Oikawa grips the hem of his own shirt. "I'm...?"

Iwaizumi cards his hand through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. Oikawa can't help but find him extremely cute.

"You're the first person I clicked this quickly with," Iwaizumi says slowly. "And I get it if you're out, but I'd appreciate it if we could redo last night."

Oikawa stares at him for a moment as he attempts to sort his thoughts. Iwaizumi _doesn't_ think he's stupid. He thinks they have a _connection_. And he somehow wants to see him again? No, no. It's all too good to be true.

"And you’re not just saying this because my mom made you?"

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. "No matter how scary she might be, there's nothing she could say or do to make me lie to you. I'm not good at lying anyway, and everything I said I said because I wanted to."

"Okay. And … do you really think I'm good looking?" Oikawa tests.

Iwaizumi's blush spreads to the tips of his ears. His answer couldn't be more obvious, and it's making Oikawa's heart sing. 

"Apology accepted," he says, letting Iwaizumi off without making him say it. 

"Thanks. So ... will you go out with me again? Tomorrow?" Iwaizumi's eyes look hopeful.

Oikawa pretends to think about it for a moment. He's already made up his mind, but there's one more thing he wants to try. "Under one condition."

Iwaizumi sits up a little straighter. "Which would be?"

"I get to keep calling you Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at him. Then he bursts out laughing.

"If that's all," he says, "sure, fine with me."

Oikawa’s heart does a little backflip in his chest. "Okay."

"Okay," Iwaizumi repeats.

They share a moment of silent eye contact, and Oikawa remembers just how attracted he is to this man. Now that it seems like they're good he can't hold the thoughts back anymore. Iwaizumi's dark hair stands up in tufts where he'd trailed his hand through it and his face is still flushed, which, in combination with his handsome features, makes him about everything Oikawa imagines he could ever want. He catches himself staring at Iwaizumi's lips, the bottom one caught between his teeth. If it were socially and situationally acceptable he'd throw himself at him right about now. However, before he can really think about it Iwaizumi gets up, smoothing his clothes down.

"Thank you for hearing me out, Oikawa. I’d really like to stay longer, but my mother's waiting for me to help prepare dinner. I'll text you later, yeah?"

Oikawa smiles. "Yeah. I'll walk you to the door."

They descend the stairs to the ground floor, where they catch Oikawa's mother peeking at them curiously from the living room. They both make it a point to ignore her as Iwaizumi opens the front door.

"Thanks for coming by, really," Oikawa says, unsure where to put his hands. He sticks them down the pockets of his sweats for lack of a better idea. He can't remember feeling this awkward when sending his previous girlfriends or boyfriends home.

Iwaizumi shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

"Me, too," Oikawa says honestly. "See you, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi gives him a smile that sends an arrow right through Oikawa's lovestruck heart. He hopes he'll get to bring out that smile again tomorrow.

"See you tomorrow," Iwaizumi says easily. With a last, lingering look, he hops down the steps outside and jogs over to the property next door, leaving Oikawa weak-kneed and giddy. 

He stares after him even after the door falls closed behind him, trying to grasp the world-changing, heart-shaking, unbelievable truth of somehow having scored a date with Iwaizumi Hajime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked this chapter! the next one's the last one, so i will do my best to not make you guys wait too long this time :'D kudos and comments are always appreciated! i'd love to hear your thoughts <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lyrics at the beginning are from HONNE'S song Me & You ◑ and i recommend you listen to it at least once! (all their music is great, though!)  
> now, without further ado, please enjoy this last chapter!!

_You came into my life with no warning_  
_Like a flash of light_  
_And I was doing fine, but as you came in_  
_I watched my future rewrite_  
_I'm not ready_  
_I am not prepared_  
_I was so steady on my feet_  
_But now I'm up in the air_

* * *

Cool white light filters through the half open curtains. The muffled voices of children playing in the fresh snow carry in through the thin sliding windows rattling in the wind. A foggy winter morning on the brink of noon.

Oikawa Tooru is in bliss. Snuggled into his bed with a dreamy smile on his lips and his phone held tight to his chest, he replays the previous night in his head, indulging himself in all its romantic glory.

After delivering his apology and a simultaneous cupid's arrow to Oikawa's heart, Iwaizumi had left to help his mother with dinner. Despite having survived off of a singular bowl of rice all day, Oikawa had felt too full to have much for dinner himself, his stomach bursting with butterflies. His mother had inquired about Iwaizumi, and even though he'd been fully prepared to give her the silent treatment, he'd been unable to contain himself and instead shared everything with her. She'd smiled knowingly and ruffled his hair, and he respected her greatly for not giving him the whole 'I knew it' spiel. She'd seemed genuinely happy for him and offered to bring him snacks should he change his mind about dinner.

Later, while nibbling on a slice of apple, Oikawa had exchanged a flurry of LINE messages with Iwaizumi, his fingers shaking in giddy anticipation.

**Iwa-chan:** Thanks for giving me a second chance. Does 6 p.m. work for you?

**Oikawa:** Of course! Can I ask where you're taking me, Iwa-chan?

**Iwa-chan:** You'll see.

**Oikawa:** !!! A secret?

**Iwa-chan:** I guess you could call it that.

**Oikawa:** Ooh, exciting! I can't wait!

**Iwa-chan:** Don't be mad if you've already been there before, though.

**Oikawa:** I would never!

Right then, Oikawa had mustered all of the courage he had, and added:  
  
**Oikawa:** I'm sure I'd have fun anywhere as long as it's with Iwa-chan.

It had taken Iwaizumi a while to reply after that, and Oikawa had anxiously rocked back and forth on his chair as he waited for an answer, hoping he hadn't said too much and made him uncomfortable. It'd be just his luck to ruin this blossoming _something_ by accelerating things too quickly.

His worries turned out to be completely unfounded, as Iwaizumi had replied in an way that made his heart beat out of rhythm and his breath catch in his throat.

 **Iwaizumi:** You overestimate me, but the feeling's mutual. I'm looking forward to seeing you.

Oikawa had been in the middle of frantically typing out his answer when his phone vibrated with another message.

 **Iwaizumi:** I'll come pick you up at your front door. Don't forget to wear a scarf, it's like hell froze over out there.

Oikawa had smiled to himself. Iwa-chan was cute _and_ thoughtful.

 **Oikawa** : Okay! Anything else?

 **Iwaizumi:** No, that's it. Get some sleep, yeah?

 **Oikawa:** Okay! Sleep well, Iwa-chan!

_Iwa-chan sent a sticker._

**Iwa-chan:** Good night, Oikawa.

Oikawa had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from squealing at the Godzilla sticker Iwaizumi had sent. It was a cute rendition of the kaiju stomping through a nightly Tokyo next to the words 'good night' in bright yellow letters.

He'd spent a while rereading the conversation and smiling like a lovestruck idiot, lying in bed and imagining what the date with Iwaizumi might be like. Would he take him somewhere fancy? An impressive candlelight dinner? A secluded wine bar? A park, maybe? Or the aquarium? Would Iwaizumi allow Oikawa to hold his hand? That thought had made his heart flutter and he'd closed his eyes for a moment to just luxuriate in the fantasy. He allowed his thoughts to roam, going through a bunch of possible scenarios, each more elaborate than the next.

He'd fallen asleep like that, to thoughts of Iwaizumi and the way he'd smiled for him, his world in harmony again.

* * *

When Oikawa gets up it's well past twelve. He hums peacefully to himself as he rummages through his parents' pantry, periodically checking his phone for messages. Four out of five times he ends up rereading his and Iwaizumi's chat log, but there's no one there to chastise him, so he lets himself indulge.  
He makes himself a nice brunch - as nice as his mediocre cooking skills allow - and settles down in his seat (which is now also Iwa-chan's seat, he guesses) at the table to eat.  
It's a peaceful morning. Oikawa's cooking doesn't taste half bad, his mother walks in and makes pleasant, non-matchmaking conversation with him, and the weather's looking to be clear and sunny once the fog has cleared. He's well rested; no dark circles, a good hair day, clear skin. Perfect dating conditions.

Too perfect, maybe.

A foreboding sense of dread overcomes Oikawa on his way back up to his room. He gets the feeling that he forgot something. Everything's been going smoothly - _too_ smoothly. There's got to be a catch somewhere. Something he missed. Something important. Right?  
He flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling and wracking his brain for the missing puzzle piece to complete his picture perfect first date plan.  
For the millionth time, he checks the time that Iwaizumi gave him. 6 p.m. He got that right the first time.  
  
He comes up with nothing for about an hour, rolling around uselessly. It's during another unwarranted rereading spree of Iwaizumi's texts that it finally hits Oikawa, square in the face, with the grace of a frying pan.

 _Don't forget to wear a scarf._

Oh god. The scarf itself isn't the issue. The real problem is _everything else_. Oikawa flings himself off the bed and pulls out all the drawers of his old dresser, letting out a pained moan as he takes in its contents. This isn't his apartment in Tokyo, full of trendy pieces bought in the last six months. This is his childhood room, containing nothing but the last dregs of his highschool wardrobe that his mother was too sentimental to throw out. He wouldn't go as far as calling teenaged Oikawa's taste in clothing bad, but. It's definitely _something_. These are the things he wouldn't bother taking with him when he moved out for university five years ago. Some of them are still _kid_ sized.  
He pulls out a plaid shirt that looks half decent until he turns it around and finds three alien shaped patches sewn across the chest, lower right and lower left. Oh god.

He doesn't have anything to wear.

In other words, he's absolutely screwed.

* * *

Mrs. Oikawa finds her son splayed out on the floor, covered by a heap of his own clothing, when she lets herself in to bring him a tray of afternoon snacks.

"Tooru, what happened? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"Tell the Iwaizumis I passed away in a tragic accident involving a murderous bear," Oikawa moans, pointing at a sweater to his left, a cute cartoon bear gracing its front. "I put up a good fight but was eventually overwhelmed and died a heroic death." He buries his face in his arms, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the ground and stay there forever.

His mother has the decency to suppress a laugh. "Is this about tonight? Did something happen?"

"This happened!" Oikawa laments, pointing at the mess of detestable clothes scattered around him. "Iwa-chan will think I'm some weird loser guy and then he'll never talk to me again!"

"I'm sure Hajime-kun would do no such thing. Is it really that bad?"

"You tell me," Oikawa says, holding up another shirt, the words "Chicken Noodle Soup" emblazoned on it.

"Didn't you bring any of your clothes from Tokyo?"

"They're all dirty or already in the wash," Tooru moans. "What do I _do_? I'd rather go out naked than be caught wearing any of these."

His mother shakes her head, chuckling under her breath. She kneels down next to her distraught son and swipes at a stray strand of his hair, tucking it back into place. She rummages through the heap of clothes, likely attempting to find something that does't qualify as a total catastrophe. Unfortunately, though not unexpectedly, it doesn't seem to go too well. With a sigh, she pats Oikawa's shoulder and stands.

"If you promise to clean up this mess I'll find you something to wear, okay? Keep your head up, darling."

Oikawa nods weakly. "Okay. Thank you, mom."

With a last look over her shoulder, Oikawa's mother leaves him to his own devices - in Oikawa's case, to keep stewing in his misery. He hopes, prays to whatever deities may be listening, that his mother be rewarded duly for her efforts, since he is sure that this situation calls for nothing short of a fashion miracle.

* * *

Five thirty finds Oikawa in front of the body length mirror in his parents' bedroom, eyes shut tightly and lips pressed together in restless anticipation.

"Is it bad? Please tell me it's not terrible - Iwa-chan will laugh at me, oh god, he'll laugh and then he'll leave me behind in an abandoned alley somewhere because who wants to spend time with someone who looks hideous like that, and--"

His mother squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "Tooru, breathe. You look good. Now open your eyes and see for yourself."

Oikawa takes a deep breath. He tells himself it can't be worse than wearing any of his old clothes. At least he won't be parading around as a walking ad for chicken soup. With his hands clenched into fists by his sides, he peels his eyes open one after the other, taking in his reflection in the mirror bit by bit.

The cream turtleneck sweater is a bit wide around the shoulders but it fits everywhere else; the distressed jeans his mother procured for him are a tad too light and the cut is straight (much wider on the thighs than Oikawa's own pants) rather than formfitting, but it works somehow. It's definitely nothing he'd purchase for himself, but.

"You can wear it well with your coat," his mother says. "You look nice, Tooru."

Begrudgingly, Oikawa has to admit that he doesn't hate it. He could be off much worse for all he knows. He just wishes he'd have thought of this problem earlier, then he wouldn't have to run around in his dad's clothes from half a decade ago. He twists and turns anxiously in front of the mirror to look at himself from different angles. It's okay. At least he's ninety nine percent sure Iwa-chan won't laugh at him for this outfit.  
  
"Thank you mom," he says, scurrying past her to grab his stuff from his room. "You're a lifesaver."  
  
She calls something after him, but he's already halfway up the stairs and much too stressed to look back and ask her to repeat herself.

Oikawa is still in the middle of pacing anxiously, thinking up topics he could talk about (in the case an awkward silence occurs between him and Iwaizumi) when the door bell rings. His heart plummets to the pit of his stomach for a second before shooting up into his throat and firmly lodging itself there.

His phone lights up with a short text message.

 **Iwa-chan:** Hey, I'm here. Ready to go?

Oikawa swallows. He's not ready. He's everything _but_. He reminds himself that he wanted this, and the fact that Iwaizumi asked him out at all should be enough of an indication that he's at least somewhat interested. Heaving a sigh, he grabs his things, closes the door to his room, and descends the stairs.

Oikawa's mother is already on her way to the door when he comes down the stairs, and he gestures wildly at her to go away. She holds up her hands and retreats to the living room, whispering, "Have fun, you two!"

Oikawa exhales shakily, shoulders pulled taut. Then he opens the door.  
  


Iwaizumi stands there in all his glory, hands down the pockets of his puffy winter jacket. The zipper's undone, revealing a thick maroon sweater underneath. 

There's something about the way he smiles up at Oikawa; it's like a ray of light, blinding. It strikes Oikawa that he looks exactly like he did the first time they met on Johzenji Avenue, beneath the golden lights in the snow. Those green-brown eyes are clear and warm, his cheeks flushed with the cold.  
Their first date, if one could call it that, had ended in an unfortunate way, but this is their chance to overwrite that experience. This is Oikawa's second chance as much as it is Iwaizumi's. He can't screw this up.

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa bounds down the steps until they're standing side by side.

"Hey," Iwaizumi says. It happens in a blink, but Oikawa catches his gaze flit up and down once - he's being checked out, and it makes his stomach twist and dip.

"You look nice, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa blinks, dumbfounded. He realizes he's just staring, lips parted halfway to a reply, but no sound comes out of his mouth. Just like that, the moment passes, and Iwaizumi dips his head and gives a little nervous laugh. Oikawa's face feels extremely hot. He sends a silent thank you to his mother for saving his outfit.

"Shall we get going?" Iwaizumi jabs his thumb across his shoulder, towards his parents' house. Oikawa follows the movement with his eyes, all the way to the small parking space holding a silver Toyota. Oh.

"You can-- I mean, we're gonna take the car?"

"Is that no good? It's a bit far to go by bus, so I thought--"

"No! It's all good!" Oikawa cuts in, waving him off. His heart beats faster. A drive! "I was just surprised! So... you're gonna drive me around tonight, Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi bites his lip on a grin. "Be careful or you'll end up forgotten in a remote parking lot."

Oikawa gasps. "Iwa-chan, weren't you supposed to not be mean to me?"

Iwaizumi holds out his hand, eyes rolling. "I won't be. Now come on."

Heart hammering against his ribcage, Oikawa takes Iwaizumi's hand and allows him to lead him over to the car.

* * *

"Will you tell me where we're headed now?"

Oikawa leans back in the passenger seat, where he's been alternating between looking outside and sneaking glances at Iwaizumi's profile. Iwaizumi's eyes haven't left the road once since they took off. His lips are pressed together in concentration, and a fine wrinkle has formed between his brows. Oikawa wants to mock him for being this tense, but he's afraid he'll accidentally let his real opinion slip, which is that Iwaizumi's driving face is extremely attractive.

"I'm surprised you haven't already figured it out to be honest. It's not far now, so no point in spoiling the surprise."

"Iwa-chan thinks I'm clever?"

Iwaizumi snorts. "You've grown up here. You should know where we are, dumbass."

"Mm." Oikawa folds his hands in his lap. "It's been a while since I last came home. Feels different now than it used to."

Iwaizumi clears his throat. "Do you miss Miyagi?"

Oikawa has to think about it for a moment to be able to give a concrete response. There are moments where he gets a little sentimental, but all in all...?

"No, not really. Not in the sense that I don't want to come home, but. I love my life in Tokyo. I worked so hard to get to where I am now, and I want to savor that for a while before I'd consider moving back. What about you?"

Iwaizumi hums, eyes on the road and hands steady on the wheel. "I've lived here all my life, so I guess I'm curious to see what else the world has to offer. Remember how I told you I might transfer somewhere else? I'm really looking forward to that."

"Do you know where?" Oikawa asks, suddenly anxious. What if Iwaizumi's company sends him off to another country? Another continent? His hands grow clammy at the thought.

"No clue. I'll know after New Years, I think. I hope it's someplace outside of Tohoku. I need a change of scenery." Iwaizumi gives a quiet laugh.

"Good luck," Oikawa says, mustering up a small smile even though Iwaizumi isn't looking.

"Thanks. Oh, by the way, how long did you say you're staying?"

"Until after New Years. I start work on the third, so I have to leave on the second at the latest."

Iwaizumi nods and hums, seemingly in thought.

They drive in silence for a couple of minutes. Oikawa watches street lights fly by, creating bright strings of yellow against the backdrop of the darkening city.

The quiet rumble of the engine and the occasional click-click-click of the blinker - mundane things, but Oikawa takes them all in like prized treasures. Iwaizumi's face, illuminated by the streetlights, his left hand expertly switching gears, the little wave and smile he gives to two pedestrians scurrying across the street in front of them at a busy intersection. Oikawa watches all of it, adding these little things to his slowly growing collection of things he likes about Iwaizumi. He could stay like this for hours, just staring at him, burning his features into his memory.

He breathes in deeply, sinking into his seat. The car smells like leather and a mild, pleasant note of pine. Oikawa wonders if its Iwaizumi's cologne.

"Don't get too comfortable now. We're here," Iwaizumi says suddenly, and sure enough, a couple of meters down the road, Iwaizumi steers them down a driveway and backs into one of the last free spots of something that seems to be a hotel parking lot.

"Are we still in Izumi?" Oikawa asks, sitting up straighter. The area does seem familiar.

"Yeah."

"Are you possibly thinking of taking me shopping at the outlet stores?" Oikawa tries. Not what he'd expected of Iwaizumi, though he guesses it's a chance to exchange his outfit for something more date appropriate.

"So you do know where we are. But no, let's save that for another time. There's something much, much better here." Iwaizumi fastens the hand brake and pulls the key out of the ignition before he gets out of the car. Oikawa hasn't even unbuckled himself - too hung up on the words 'another time' - when the passenger door opens and Iwaizumi appears on the other side.

"Come. I don't want them closing on us."

Oikawa nods and gets out, nervously clutching at his scarf. It's a bit windy, and the first stars have appeared between thick clouds. Oikawa pulls his scarf tighter around his neck.

The street is lined with lit-up trees, but unlike the ones on Johzenji Avenue, they look a bit more reminiscent of Christmas trees. Iwaizumi's steps are brisk and quick, and Oikawa would have to actively try to keep up with him if his own legs weren't so long. In his hurry Iwaizumi almost walks the two of them past the little entry, and he stops abruptly once he realizes, Oikawa bumping into him.

"Ah, sorry," Iwaizumi says immediately, hands reaching out to stabilize him. "You okay?"

Oikawa swallows and gives a stiff nod. Iwaizumi's hands burn through the sleeves of his coat. He's so close.

"Sorry," Iwaizumi reiterates, letting go of Oikawa. He scratches at the nape of his neck, making Oikawa wonder if he's nervous. The thought makes his heart squeeze.

"It's this way," Iwaizumi says, gesturing at a little opening between rows of trees and underbrush sitting by the side of the sidewalk. Oikawa cranes his neck to try and peek past gaps in the evergreen, but there's no way to tell what lies behind. It's dark and quiet beyond the rumbling of cars farther down the street, and a part of Oikawa reminds him that he should be careful, but the other part of him, the part that witnessed Iwaizumi apologizing to him last night (the part that fell for him the moment they collided) knows he's got nothing to be afraid of.

They walk along the narrow winding path side by side, their way lit sparsely by small lanterns every couple of steps.  
  
"I like it better here than down in Aoba-ku. Less busy," Iwaizumi says, elbow brushing Oikawa's arm, "quieter, but just as pretty."

Oikawa nods wordlessly. Iwaizumi must have put a lot of thought into this.

The path begins to broaden around the next curve, the bushes retreating to the edges. The darkness gives way to a warm, holden hue, and then Oikawa sees it.

The lake, and thousands of lights reflecting in its dark waters like stars. The leafless trees, bursting with glowing bulbs. Everything shines in gold, blue, green. A wooden bench underneath one of them, draped in garlands and lending itself as a photo spot. Little tent-like sitting areas, a cart selling hot drinks nearby. It looks like a different world, a fairytale world right in the middle of Sendai.

Oikawa's mouth falls open. "It's beautiful," he says, unable to keep his eyes from the lights.

Iwaizumi gives a relieved chuckle next to him. "You like it?"

"Iwa-chan, this is amazing. I had no idea this place existed!" Oikawa turns to look at him just in time to catch Iwaizumi ducking his head, hand in his hair. When he straightens and their eyes meet, he stuffs his hands into his pockets again and clears his throat.

"You wanna get closer? The lake's the best part."

Oikawa nods enthusiastically.

Even from up close, the lake looks like a small galaxy, ripples in the surface blurring the drops of gold into flurries of stardust. Oikawa marvels at the display. It looks surreal almost, a visual illusion, or trick art. It's dark and bright at the same time, a soft glow pulling the whole picture together.  
He tries to imagine Iwaizumi watching the dancing reflections by himself, squatting by the bank or maybe watching from further back. He can't help but add another person to the mental image, just a blurry, faceless silhouette, only clear enough to make out an arm looped around Iwaizumi's. He knows Iwaizumi isn't with anyone right now, but that isn't to say he would never be. It is that sort of place, after all. He wonders, clandestinely, if he could become that person for Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi stands close by, hands still deep inside his coat pockets. "This is the first time I've ever brought anyone here," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"Really?"

"Mh. I like that it's a bit secluded and a bit quieter here. Too many people ruin the atmosphere. It's my secret hideout." He glances at the other visitors standing around in small groups. "Well, sort of."

Oikawa smiles. "So Iwa-chan deems me worthy enough to share his secret spot with?"

"I guess, yeah. I wanted to bring you somewhere I thought you might like. Sorry if it's a bit underwhelming."

Oikawa's chest feels warm, like he swallowed one of those twinkling lights.  
  
"Iwa-chan, no," he insists. "It's perfect. I'm really happy you brought me here. It's very sweet of you to be so thoughtful, though." He meant to tease, but his words come out soft and honest instead.

Iwaizumi's shoulders rise and sink with a low laugh. "Don't mention it." Licking his lips, he adds, "I'll get us somethig to drink, yeah? Don't run away."

Iwaizumi brushes past him and heads towards a little stand selling hot drinks. He isn't gone long, nowhere near long enough for Oikawa to finish staring at him from afar. Iwaizumi's cute like this. Oikawa can tell he's making an effort, and it leaves him feeling giddy and lightheaded.  
When Iwaizumi gets back, he's holding two steaming paper cups of hot chocolate. He passes one of them to Oikawa who accepts it with a small thanks.

They make pleasant small talk while they sip on their drinks, idly ambling by the lake. Christmas music plays quietly from speakers hidden around the vicinity, but Oikawa barely notices. He's too focused on Iwaizumi. He learns more about his work, his favorite spots around the city ("We should do a tour one of these days, Iwa-chan!") and places he hasn't been to but wants to visit. Oikawa listens intently, realizing how easy it is to talk to Iwaizumi. After they'd started off on the wrong foot that first night, he never would have imagined he'd find himself talking to him like this ever again. And yet, here they are, talking as if they'd never done anything else.

Time passes much too quickly. When they've finished their hot chocolate and Oikawa begins to shiver, Iwaizumi lightly tugs on his scarf, tying the knot tighter.

"I know you're cold and it's getting late, so let's go and grab some food on the way home."

"Already?" Oikawa protests. "I feel like we just got here."

Iwaizumi raises a brow at him. "Well, what else do you wanna do here?"

Oikawa looks around, trying to find something to justify staying. The area is small, and there isn't much. There are barely any people left either, just a handful now. Even the little photo spot sits there vacated, surrounded only by light and a large wooden ampersand sitting in the middle of the bench.

That's his chance. Oikawa grabs hold of Iwaizumi's sleeve.

"Let's take some pictures, Iwa-chan! Then we can leave."

"Mh?"

Oikawa points at the bench. "There's no one there, so we won't even have to wait for our turn. It won't take long! Please?"

"You don't have to beg for me to say yes," Iwaizumi laughs, crinkles around his eyes. "Let's do it."

He lets Oikawa drag him to the bench and they sit on it, the wooden ampersand cushioned on their thighs. Oikawa appoints himself as their photographer once more, fishing out his phone and holding it up in front of them.

"Ready? Smile, Iwa-chan!"

The camera flashes, and Oikawa checks the picture to see how it came out. Iwaizumi is clutching the ampersand with one hand, eyelids frozen mid-blink.

"Iwa-chan, what's that face? Where's your smile!" Oikawa teases, pointing at the furrow between Iwaizumi's brows on screen.

"I wasn't ready!" Iwaizumi defends. "Let's try again."

The next pictures are hardly better. Oikawa starts to think he has a knack for shooting Iwaizumi with his eyes closed or with a weird facial expression, much to Iwaizumi's chagrin.

"Will you stop taking these weird ass pictures of me?" Iwaizumi half laughs, half moans.

"It's Iwa-chan's fault for being so unphotogenic," Oikawa says.

Iwaizumi's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. Before Oikawa has fully grasped what's coming his way, Iwaizumi has snuck his hands inside his coat, fingertips digging harshly into his sides. Oikawa shrieks at the attack, trying to wriggle free, but he fails to escape Iwaizumi's iron grip. He tickles him mercilessly, pulling breathless laughs -- and a jumble of unintelligible screaming -- from him.

"Who's unphotogenic? I didn't hear you the first time," Iwaizumi asks threateningly.

"N-no one!" Oikawa squirms under Iwaizumi's attack, cheeks hot and heart beating fast.

"Sure didn't sound that way, huh... I could have sworn..."

Iwaizumi continues his onslaught on Oikawa's poor sides, poking and tickling and laughing at his high-pitched yelps until Oikawa eventually manages to gasp out, "I take it all back! Iwa-chan, you're very photogenic-- Please just-- No more, I can't--"

With a huff, Iwaizumi releases him, and Oikawa gulps in lungfuls of cool air, chest heaving with exertion. He wipes at his watery eyes, the skin of his face flushed and hot. His sweater suddenly feels layers too warm.

"I'm gonna be sore from that tomorrow," Oikawa bemoans, only half joking, and Iwaizumi throws him a smug don't-mess-with-me sort of grin. It melts Oikawa's insides into a puddle of goo.

"Stop that," he says, unsure whether he's directing it at Iwaizumi or at himself.

"Well, are you saying you want to keep taking pictures with unphotogenic people such as myself or are you satisfied?"

"Iwa-chan, don't be sad, there's hope even for you," Oikawa says, unable to keep himself from smiling. He scoots closer, hip and thigh pressing lightly into Iwaizumi's. "I'm a great photographer! I'll make you look good!"

 _You don't need my help to look good, though_ , Oikawa thinks. Iwa-chan always looks good.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but resumes posing for the camera nonetheless.

Most of the pictures end up being snapshots of the two of them making funny faces, but Oikawa does make good on his promise to take a couple of presentable ones as well.

"Alright, I think we've got some pretty good ones in there," Oikawa says eventually, showing Iwaizumi his phone screen.

Iwaizumi hums in approval. "Let's take one more."

He doesn't try to hide his surprise, but Oikawa certainly doesn't mind. One can never have enough pictures of their handsome neighbor after all!

Oikawa lifts his phone again, angling the shot. He's about to take the picture when he stills abruptly, breath hitching and heart stopping.

A warm weight leans into him as Iwaizumi brings an arm around his waist just like he'd done on Johzenji Avenue.

"Like this," Iwaizumi says. He's much closer than expected, close enough that Oikawa can feel his breath fan across his cheek. "Okay?"

Oikawa's heart does a somersault in his chest. When he looks at Iwaizumi this time he finds him already watching, expression impossibly warm. His eyes are half lidded, his lips parted. He's looking right at him, and Oikawa's insides begin to flutter and squirm. There it is again, a faint note of pine, polished and sweet. Oikawa can't find the strength to make a sound.

"Oikawa." Iwaizumi's voice is little more than a rough whisper -- cautious. Vulnerable. He swallows once. "Is ... is this okay?"

Oikawa shivers. It's not because of the cold. He can't take his eyes off of Iwaizumi, phone forgotten in his lap. He gives a minuscule nod, not sure what he's saying yes to. Maybe, to everything.

Iwaizumi's hold on him tightens. His breath stutters on an inhale; his eyes flick down to Oikawa's lips, then back up. He too seems to have forgotten about the photo.

There is a long, dreamlike moment of limbo -- no sound, no words, everything fading into white noise around them -- and then, everything is set into motion: The smell of pine, heady and cinnamon-sweet, flooding Oikawa's system. The dull thump of Oikawa's phone as it slides off his lap and drops onto the frozen ground. Oikawa's own pounding heartbeat, deafening in his ears. And then, all that remains are Iwaizumi's lips, dry but soft, as he brushes them sweetly against Oikawa's.

The kiss is a question, careful and slow. It's Iwa-chan, wonderful, honest Iwa-chan who Oikawa is sure has raw strength brimming in every fiber of his body. And yet, he kisses him like he's something to be treasured. There's no pressure, no demands. Oikawa could pull back any time.

He doesn't want to pull back.

Shaking fingers twisting into the fabric of Iwaizumi's sleeve for support, Oikawa chases after his gentle touch, deepening the kiss. Everything is hot and blinding, fireworks flying behind Oikawa's closed eyelids. Iwaizumi's lips taste like chocolate and milk. Oikawa feels him shiver, the cold tip of his nose pressing gently into his own. The sensation is electrifying. Oikawa's synapses go haywire as he falls and falls into Iwaizumi, breathless and heart full.  
He thinks, faintly, that he never could have envisioned the monumentality of this. None of his daydreams even came close to the lived reality of being kissed by Iwaizumi Hajime.

When it ends, Oikawa finds it difficult to separate from Iwaizumi, drunk on serotonin and the taste of his kisses. He blinks his eyes open slowly, cheeks flaring with heat, and realizes that Iwaizumi is still incredibly close. The arm around him loosens, but his eyes won't look away.

"Iwa-chan..." is all Oikawa manages, brain still trying to compute the small wonder that just happened.

Iwaizumi gives a shy laugh. "I meant to save this for New Years Eve, see where things go. But you're so ... I couldn't stand waiting that long."

Oikawa thinks he's going to combust.

"You were planning on kissing me?"

"Well, not in detail. But I knew I wanted to. We just met, but ..."

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa says again, barely trusting his own ears. "I wanted it too."

"You did?"

Oikawa nods. "Of course. I wanted to kiss you since the moment we met. I was so sure I was coming on too strong asking you to stick together. But that connection you were talking about? I felt that, too."

"Oh. I'm really glad you asked. I sure as hell wouldn't have had the courage to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, Iwa-chan, don't tell me ... are you actually super shy? Despite looking like that?" Oikawa gestures at Iwaizumi's everything.

Iwaizumi slaps him, ears and face flushed a deep red that betrays a smidge of truth in Oikawa's words. "Just take the compliment, idiot, oh my god."

Forcing himself not to laugh at Iwaizumi for being so flustered, Oikawa takes a deep breath. It feels unreal, after having daydreamed about it all this time, when he finally reaches out for Iwaizumi's hand, carefully lacing their fingers together. Iwaizumi allows it, even gently squeezes back, making Oikawa's heart contract at the same time.

"Iwa-chan, I really like you."

Iwaizumi's expression softens. "Even though I yelled at you?"

"And called me stupid? And also slapped me like twice today?" Oikawa adds playfully. "Yeah, despite all of that. Besides, what happened two days ago was just a misunderstanding. I wanna get to know you more, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi smiles. "Me too."

It's Oikawa this time, who leans into it first, pressing their lips together. Iwaizumi makes a small surprised noise in the back of his throat, fingers squeezing Oikawa's hand tighter.

"Wanna take one last picture before we leave?" Oikawa whispers into the space between them when he pulls back, lips tingling.

Iwaizumi nods. "Okay. But let's make it quick. I didn't just want to leave for no reason, we do have a reservation at a restaurant, actually."

Oikawa gasps in delight.  
  


Then, he grabs his phone off the ground and lets Iwaizumi pull him in close for their final snapshot.

* * *

_Two weeks later, New Year's Eve_

The temple is packed with people. The deep, vibrating echoes of the huge bell seep inside Oikawa's bones, adding to the chill of the icy air carrying a mild aroma of amazake and incense.

He rubs his hands together for warmth, blowing hot breath into his palms. His parents and the Iwaizumis are gathered by the bell in hopes of getting to ring it once out of the 108 times, but Tooru doesn't like the sound of it up close. He likes it much better by the omikuji-stands, even though it's just as crowded there. Despite being tall, he has to get on his tiptoes to be able to see past the crowd. He's on the lookout for a familiar head of spiked, ink black hair and that red puffer jacket, but he can't see him anywhere. He wonders briefly if he got trampled on his way to the food carts outside the temple area.

Oikawa winces in shock when something grabs him from behind all of a sudden, strong arms winding around his middle.

"Surprise," Iwaizumi says softly. His breath tickles Oikawa's ear, and he immediately forgets to be angry with Iwaizumi for scaring him. Instead, he turns around in his embrace, locking eyes with his boyfriend. It's crowded enough and everyone's busy buying things, so he isn't all that bothered about anyone looking at them.

"Got you something," Iwaizumi says, letting go of Oikawa with one arm to procure something small from his pocket.

"I thought you were going to get us a snack," Oikawa says without any real sort of disappointment or judgment. They did have a pretty elaborate family dinner of toshikoshi soba and various homemade side dishes after all.

"Well, yeah. But then I saw these," Iwaizumi says. Two identical good luck charms sit in his palm, light blue with gold threading, the characters for _en-musubi_ embroidered on the little brocade pouches. "I know it's a bit cheesy, but I couldn't help thinking you'd like them. And with you going back to Tokyo tomorrow, you know ... I wanted you to have something to remind you of me."

They have talked about it of course, what would happen once Oikawa returned to Tokyo. Oikawa had been the one to bring it up, a couple of days past Christmas Eve, which they'd spent together on a day trip to Fukushima prefecture. He was aware of the suddenness of it all and the novelty of their involvement with one another, and while it was with a heavy heart, he had told Iwaizumi that it would be okay for him to see other people once he was gone. It hadn't been easy to say, but he had felt that he couldn't expect someone he'd just met to limit himself for something that might not even turn into anything.  
Sitting on the bed in his dimly lit childhood bedroom, Iwaizumi had taken his hands and rubbed gentle circles into his skin. Then, he'd called him an idiot and officially asked Oikawa to be his boyfriend.

Oikawa's mouth goes dry. "I love them," he blurts out, throat closing up. He doesn't need physical items to remind him of Iwaizumi, but the way Iwaizumi's eyes gleam when he takes one of the charms makes it feel special.

"Thank you, Iwa-chan. I'll treasure this."

Iwaizumi drops a quick kiss to his cheek before taking a step back.

"I'm glad you like them. Also, my parents were saying you should come over tomorrow before you leave. I'm pretty sure they want to give you a bunch of food, fruits and stuff. You can refuse that if it's a bother, by the way."

"No, that's fine. I'm so glad they like me."

Iwaizumi laughs. "They already liked you before _I_ had even met you. Still feels like a bit of a miracle honestly."

It's Oikawa's turn to laugh. "Our own personal Christmas miracle."

Just then, the bell rings for the final, 108th time. Around them, people begin chattering away, showering each other in New Year's greetings. Oikawa sees his father and mother waving at them, big smiles on their faces. Before making their way over to them, he wants to say one more thing. He looks back at Iwaizumi.

"Happy New Year, Iwa-chan. Please treat me kindly this year as well."

Iwaizumi's green-brown eyes twinkle as he returns the phrase, and Oikawa clutches his lucky charm tighter.

"Come visit me often? I'll give you a tour of Tokyo if you want?"

Iwaizumi makes a serious face. "I'll see about that. Who knows where my company's gonna send me? Maybe I'll end up in China or something."

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa protests. "The mood!"

Iwaizumi snorts. "Just kidding. I'll come visit, okay? I'll go crazy without your constant nagging to keep me occupied."

"How did I ever think you were a romantic," Oikawa bemoans, but his heart beats faster all the same. No matter where Iwaizumi ends up, he's willing to put in the work. He hasn't felt like he feels for Iwaizumi for a long time, maybe never. This -- Iwaizumi, is someone he can't let slip away. It may have started off as purely physical attraction, but the more he gets to know him, the deeper he falls. The last two weeks have been magical. They've just started to learn each other's likes and dislikes, and Oikawa still hasn't gotten used to what it feels like to kiss Iwaizumi, and he feels like he won't for a long time. That's okay. This is only the beginning.

As they make their way through the throngs of people to meet up with their families, hands linked inside Iwaizumi's pocket, snow begins to fall from the starry night sky, shimmering in the light below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it, friends! it feels really weird to finally see this story come to an end after six months and then some. i'm sorry it took me so long! i am really looking forward to working on new stories (i have so, so many ideas), and also, i've seen promotions going on on twitter and tumblr for a bunch of hq fan weeks this summer, so maybe i'll hop on some of those. as always, i may go back later and fix little mistakes or things that don't make sense.  
> thank you so much for reading until the end! see you soon! <3

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter: @_lumielle | tumblr: @lumiellle]


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